


The Moment Before it Rains

by theblueofthenight



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:38:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theblueofthenight/pseuds/theblueofthenight
Summary: And I meant it, when I said that. Or I thought I did. Because deep down, I knew I was lying to myself, and to Lexa. Because I wanted everything. I wanted tomorrow, and the day after that, and all the days after. Today wasn’t enough for me, it never was. How could it be? How could you watch a sunset, and only be satisfied with seeing it once? How could you watch a thunderstorm, in the height of its frenzy, and not be in awe? How could you see the ocean, and be content never feeling it? Lexa was the sunset, the storm, and the ocean. She was all that to me.





	1. Chapter 1

You know that moment before it rains, when the air is thick and heavy? When there’s a tension in the air, and the sheer palpability of a coming downpour is so real you can taste it? The feeling of something coming that will tear through the very sky and ground itself?

I should have known something was coming on the day my life changed. I woke up with that same feeling. Unable to place this sense of unease and anticipation, I tossed it to the back of my mind. Routine does that for you. I showered, dressed, gathered my school essentials, and barreled through the door tossing a haphazard goodbye to my parents over my shoulder.

Like any other day I jumped into my friend’s Toyota, sang along to the radio, and tore into the local high school with just the right amount of recklessness for a high school senior. A little confidence, a little smugness, a little “I don’t give a fuck attitude” and viola, you could write a cliché high school script about me and my friend group. We strolled down the halls, as if we owned the very tiles we walked on.

“I swear if I hear one more comment from Bellamy about how I should already be applying for colleges, I’ll scream. I haven’t even finished putting together a list of schools I want to go to.”

Octavia Blake. Short and feisty, soccer superstar. If there was one person you never wanted to get into a fight with, it was Octavia. She had made someone cry in every grade, usually from a mere faux show of dominance. But there had been that time she had beaten up a boy three years older than her for insulting her heritage. She was a Greek warrior reborn.

“I’ve already been accepted into MIT, I’m pretty sure my brother was disappointed he couldn’t give me college advice. I guess MIT trumps local community college.”

Raven Reyes, technical and engineering genius. She had made thousands off her skills as engineer and tech extraordinaire, and had already been accepted into some of the most prestigious technical schools in the country. She also had a wicked sense of humor. Every successful prank in every grade could inevitably be traced back to Raven Reyes, though she had never actually been caught. She was an Amelia Earhart reincarnation, born to explore and make history.

“Wait, Raven tell us again, I don’t think you’ve told us yet you got into MIT.” I stuck out my tongue at Raven, using my greatest weapon of defense in the presence of my god-like friends; sarcasm.

Clarke Griffin. Yep, that’s me. My one claim to the extraordinary was my passable art skills. Admittedly, I had worked on overdrive over the summer to put together a presentable portfolio to apply to art schools, with no responses so far. Other than that, I was just your ordinary high school student, just trying to get through the least formative years of my life. Or so I was hoping. Clarke Griffin, Picasso reborn? Monet? Kahlo? Eh, I’d settle for “local artist featured in local coffee shop.”

Somewhere from the entrance of the brave, long-standing doors of the high school; down the gum-crusted, sweat-smelling halls; and the entrance to my poorly attempted physics room full of cheap motivational posters like “Think like a proton and stay positive;” I should have realized there was _something_ in the air. Maybe I would have ran the other way. Maybe I would have been ok with the same-old. Maybe I could have continued with life unaffected and uninspired.

It deceptively began the same, the day I mean. Classes on Physics, classes on History, classes on English, and then my favorite time of the day-lunch. And this, my friend, is when everything changed. Because I did something different that day.

We were walking towards the lunchroom, jostling through the mess of frazzled students. “Shit!” I ruffled through my bag, looking for my phone. “I think I left my phone in your car, Raven.”

Raven rolled her eyes at me. “Come on Griffin.” She tossed me a pair of keys. “Get your pretty ass in gear, or you’ll miss the best food.”

“Yeah, yeah. Because I obviously can’t count on my _genius_ of a friend finding a way to save me some food.”

“I pick my battles wisely, I’m afraid saving you food doesn’t count.”

I flipped her off as I hurried down the hall towards the parking lot, grumbling about my forgetfulness. It had always been a lifelong battle of mine. I had once googled surgeries to improve memory. There was actually a scary amount of them.

Raven’s car was near the middle of the lot, and as I stepped off the edge of the sidewalk I swear the air itself fucking changed.

Across the way was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. She was blowing out a stream of cigarette smoke, staring right at me with sparkling green eyes and an amused half-smirk that framed beautiful cheekbones. Wait, since when were cheekbones beautiful? She had one hand tucked into the pocket of her leather jacket as she leaned lazily against David’s red Camaro.

I stared, transfixed. Unable to breath for half-a-second. I hadn’t even realized I was attracted to girls until this very moment. But oh god, my head was spinning. I could feel myself go warm all over, I quickly slapped a hand over my blushing cheeks as if that would hide the dead give-away of my attraction to this beautiful creature.

The girl raised an eyebrow at me, and I gave an awkward little wave. What was this? Middle school all over again? Oh god please no.

The girl laughed, giving me a wink and I swear I didn’t think it was possible to even blush as much as I did in that moment.

As if trying to save me from further embarrassment, the girl pushed off the edge of the Camaro, and I thought for a moment she was going to walk away.

But nope, nope, nope she was walking straight towards me.

I was unprepared for the meeting of Lexa Woods. Looking back, if I could do anything differently, I would have grabbed her and kissed her senseless right then. It may have been my only opportunity to truly ever make Lexa speechless.

But I can assure you, I definitely did not do that. High school version of Clarke Griffin was not known for being particularly smooth.

Instead, I may have choked on thin air. Lexa immediately strode over as I began coughing desperately, patting me on the back until I regained the ability to breathe again.

When I finally did, I looked at the gorgeous brunette through watery eyes.

“I’m sorry if the cigarette smoke upset you, I didn’t think I’d bother anyone smoking out here.” Lexa’s voice was unfairly smooth and soft, like a musical instrument.

“No, no you’re fine.”

The girl smiled at me, nearly sending me into another gay-infested round of coughing.

“I’m Lexa, Lexa Woods.” Oh right, I already introduced you to her. Well, here she is officially. Lexa Woods.

“Clarke Griffin.” You already know me, obviously.

Lexa gave me a smirk. “Escaping high school already? I don’t blame you, a beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be locked away within those walls on a beautiful day like today.”

I shook my head quickly. “Oh no, I was just getting my phone from my friend’s car. I accidentally left it there this morning.”

Lexa tsked at me, “That is a blessing my friend. A day of disconnection from obligations.”

Well, I guess the beautiful ones always are a bit strange.

“I suppose.”

“Clarke Griffin, I believe fate has put you in my path today. Here I was standing, thinking how nice it would be to spend a day with a beautiful girl, who just happens to have a means of transportation, and here you appear. The universe has indeed smiled on me today.”

Ok, admittedly, quite strange.

“I, uh, should probably get back to school actually. Octavia suspects we’ll get a pop quiz in American Government today.”

Lexa shook her head at me, entwining her arm through mine. “Absolutely not, I insist. Clarke Griffin, come on an adventure with me?”

“Will you kidnap me if I say no?”

“Probably.”

I pursed my lips in thought. I had just been asked out on, possibly, a date by the most beautiful person I had ever seen. It did seem the universe had arranged this meeting herself, and I had had that funny feeling when I woke up this morning…what the hell. How could I say no to this? Future Clarke Griffin would slap me over the head if I said no (for the record, yes I would have).

“Ok, ok sure. But we have to be back by the end of the school day, and I should text Raven and Octavia where I am.”

Lexa grinned widely at me. “This is the most fantastic news, Clarke Griffin. I’ll allow you one text, then you have to promise to put away your phone for the rest of the day.”

I rolled my eyes. Of course my kidnapper would lay down ground rules.

“Fine.”

We strolled towards Raven’s car, Lexa clambered into the passenger seat with relish. True to word, she allowed me one text than confiscated my phone. Looking back now, perhaps I should have been more worried about Lexa’s intentions…

Nevertheless we were soon on the road.

“Soooo, where are we going exactly?” I stole small, shy glances at Lexa as I drove. She had the window open and was weaving her arm up and down in the air, her long brunette hair swirling in the wind.

“Take a left at the next stoplight.”

I rolled my eyes at the nondescript directions but did as she said. She directed me as we went, and I continued to steal glances at her as I subtly wiped my sweaty palms onto my jeans. She probably noticed, but what can a girl do?

“So, are you not in school?” I asked, trying to get to know this enigma of a girl before me.

“Homeschooled.”

“Ah, that’s cool. So do your parents just let you go out and do whatever when you’re done with your homework?”

“Something like that.” Lexa turned towards me, resting her chin on her hand as she examined me.

“And what about you? Who is Clarke Griffin?”

“Oh, uhh,” I shrugged noncommittedly. “Just your average high school student. There’s nothing that extraordinary about me.”

“Oh, I very much disagree.”

I gave her a puzzled look. “I um, paint I guess. That’s about the only interesting thing about me.”

“What do you paint?”

“I don’t know, anything really.”

Lexa hummed. “How do you feel when you paint?”

I gave her a confused look, “Good, I guess.”

“Clarke Griffin, you should feel more than good when you paint. You should feel like your hand is the hand of God, and when you paint, you are making worlds.”

“I guess it feels kind of like that.”

Lexa hummed, smiling at me with affection (at least I like to think so).

“Take a right at the next intersection.”

I immediately recognized where we were. It was a park at the edge of the city, near a lake.

“Oh I know this place.”

Lexa wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Not like me, I can assure you of that.”

I laughed. “Ok Mrs. Mysterious, are you going to be like this all day?” She was.

“Just until you realize I’m a pretty average girl like you.” Yeah right, average my ass.

Lexa winked at me and hopped out of the car when I parked. She came around and grabbed my hand, dragging me towards a patch of trees near the edge of the lake.

I swear my heart jumped out of my chest as her smooth hand covered mine, yanking gently to get me moving. I stared at our hands, transfixed. I don’t think I had ever held hands like this before. It was a perfect fit. I held them up slightly, examining them carefully.

It was at that moment I realized we had stopped moving. I glanced up at Lexa who was looking at me with playful mirth in her eyes. I blushed and dropped our connected hands, but she swiftly reached over and reconnected them with a wink.

She dragged us over to one of the tallest trees I had ever seen. I craned my neck backwards, admiring the height of the tree.

Lexa dropped our hands, and jumped onto a low-hanging branch of the tree. I gaped at her. No, really, my mouth fell wide-open.

“Are you going to climb that?”

“Yes ma’am. So are you.”

Oh hell no.

“Uh-uh. No way.” I crossed my arms as if to prove a point.

“Remember who has your phone, Clarke Griffin.” She raised an eyebrow to challenge me.

I huffed. “I’m going to fall and break a neck.”

“You won’t, I promise.”

Likely story. If I had fallen and broken my neck that day I’m pretty sure Octavia and Raven would have stood at my funeral wearing “well, that was stupid” shirts.

Lexa helped me onto the first branch, and then helped me onto the next one. Branch-by-branch we inched our way up. Eventually I lost track of the height of our climb, and just concentrated on where I was putting my feet and hands. Suddenly, with a start I realized I was at the top of the tree. I inhaled sharply, grasping the branch I was holding a little tighter.

Lexa chuckled from below. I glared at her. “So I’m at the fucking top, now what?”

“Look around.”

So I did. And the smug son of a bitch was right. The climb had been totally worth it. It was the best view I had ever seen. From the top of the tree I could see the city, the lake, and forest span outwards, eventually giving way to neighborhoods. I smiled. Ok, yeah it was pretty cool.

“Close your eyes.”

I gave Lexa a look. God she was so bossy. But I did as she said, holding on a little tighter.

I closed them.

“Picture what you just saw. Picture you painting that view. That feeling, hold onto that feeling. _That’s_ what you should feel when you’re painting.”

I breathed in deeply, picturing how I would put down in paint the view before me. It exhilarated me, my hands twitched, eager to pick up a paintbrush. God, I hadn’t felt this way in years.

I opened them again, and Lexa gave me a warm smile. She nodded at me. She understood.

Carefully we made our way back down, somewhat regretfully, on my part. I know, unbelievable.

Eventually we landed on the ground, and Lexa gave me a wide, tooth-filled smile. She grabbed my hand, gently guiding me towards the lake.

I admired the way the sun lit up Lexa’s thick, curly, dark brunette hair. My hands itched to run my hands through it.

We stopped at the edge of the lake, and inspiration must have been hitting me hard just then because it looked like a crystal blue disk, with the sun reflecting off its surface to throw golden rays all around us. I itched for a canvas.

Lexa reached down, removing her shoes and socks, and rolling up her jeans.

I mimicked her. I was catching on. We waded out slightly into the water. It was just cold enough to make me catch my breath, but Lexa was still holding my hand, and that reminder immediately warmed me up straight down to my toes.

“You’re a strange girl, Lexa Woods.”

She smiled at me, wading closer. “Thank you.”

“Do you often go around kidnapping random girls to go on adventures with you?”

“None as beautiful as you.”

“I bet you say that to all the pretty girls.”

“Just you.”

I laughed. “That’s what they all say.”

“Mmmm, perhaps.”

I blushed, feeling the stroking of Lexa’s thumb over my knuckles. “I think I rather like holding hands with you.”

Lexa chuckled. “I rather like holding hands with you, too, Clarke Griffin.”

“I didn’t even know I would,” I frowned. “I mean-“

Lexa must have understood what I was trying to say because she just laughed and drew me close. Suddenly, we were face-to-face and I immediately stopped talking, my train of thought completely de-railed.

 “Today is a day of discovery.”

And then she was kissing me. And great mother of all things beautiful and good, kissing Lexa was the best feeling. Kissing her was different from any other kiss I had ever experienced. Her lips were soft, and plump, and she tasted like cigarettes and strawberries. It was exhilarating, and soft, and sweet, and gentle, and over far too soon. Lexa pulled away, our lips making a small _pop_ noise as she did so.

“ _That_ is how you should feel when you’re painting,” Lexa whispered out, voice thick, and deep, and somewhat sad.

I took in a shaky breath, immediately bringing my hand up to grasp Lexa’s face and bringing her in for another kiss. I wanted more. I _needed_ more. I ran my tongue against Lexa’s bottom lip, tasting the strawberry chapstick she wore. When she opened her mouth I deepened the kiss, resting one of my hands against her waist and pulling her close.

I changed the angle of the kiss, bumping my nose against Lexa’s as I did so. I swear I had never felt a high like this. In less than an hour my entire world had been upended. One kiss wouldn’t be enough, I needed to know this girl.

I needed to paint her green eyes, and hold her smooth, perfectly made hands. I needed to feel her hair, and see her smile. Speaking of hair, I moved my hand from Lexa’s cheek, running my hand through her hair, loving the feeling of it in my hands.

Suddenly Lexa stepped back, breaking the kiss. She was panting slightly from the heated kiss, and she gave me a wide-eyed look.

She ran her fingers through her hair, dropping her eyes “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” She raised her eyes back up towards me, eyes sad and slightly broken.

I felt myself reeling from the sudden change. What had happened? Had I done something wrong?

Lexa must have read my thoughts, because she suddenly shook her head. “I’m so sorry, it has nothing to do with you.”

She rubbed her face in frustration. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Lexa, what’s wrong? You’re acting weird.”

Lexa shook her head, giving me a guilty look. Yeah, she was really scaring me.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. That was unfair of me.”

Unfair? What the hell was she talking about?

“Unfair? What the hell are you talking about?” I was suddenly hit with a thought. “Oh my god, you have a girlfriend.” I paused. “Or a boyfriend. I don’t know, someone.”

Lexa immediately stepped closer. “No, no, no I don’t. I would never.”

She let out a sigh of frustration, raising her eyes and staring deeply at me. I squirmed under the inspection. Is this what ants felt like under a microscope?

“It’s just, I just wanted a day out with someone. And you came along, and you were so beautiful and adorable and flustered, I couldn’t help myself. And you’re extraordinary, and brave, and kind. You’re a reflection of the sun, and you blinded me. And I got carried away. And I shouldn’t have.”

I felt both extremely flattered and annoyed by her speech. Why was she so vague? Before I could reply, Lexa held up her hand.

“I have cancer, Clarke. I’m dying. And you were standing there, and I know it was so selfish of me, but I just wanted to kiss a pretty girl before I died. I didn’t think I’d get another chance like this. I’m so, so sorry.”

I felt like a semi-truck tore through me in that moment. I think I lost consciousness for half-a-second, unable to process what Lexa had told me. It couldn’t be true. No, no, no.

In one day, in less than two hours, I had been swept away by this beautiful girl. And in that same day, I had lost her. The day had indeed torn through me. I never said rain was gentle.

Lexa stepped forward, hesitantly grabbing my hand. “I’m sorry Clarke.”

The movement drew me out of my thoughts and I stared at Lexa. Thoughts tore through my head like The Road Runner.

“You have cancer?”

“Yes, terminal cancer.”

I nodded. My mind was made up. I should be furious with Lexa, but I could be furious tomorrow.

I stepped forward, grasping Lexa’s leather jacket and slipping it off her shoulder. I tossed it onto the beach.

“Clarke, what are you doing?”

I stripped off my own shirt, tossing it besides Lexa’s jacket. It left me only in my black bra.

Lexa mouth fell open and she dropped her gaze. “Clarke?”

“You said you wanted a day out with someone. I can do that. Now strip, we’re going swimming.”

I reached down and stripped my jeans, before winking at Lexa and running into the water with a howl.

Lexa gaped at me, but then shook her head with a smile and stripped her own shirt and jeans, joining me in the water.

I laughed as Lexa dived in, spraying me with water as she did so, surfacing with a giggle. Yes, an honest-to-god giggle. Lexa fucking Woods giggled in my presence, I just needed to make sure you got that.  

Lexa gave me an incomprehensible look.

“What?” I treaded water, gazing at her with a confused look.

“You’re the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met, Clarke Griffin.”

“I’m nobody.”

“No, no you’re somebody. Somebody very great. And you’re going to do great things. And I wish I could be around to see it.”

I felt an ache open up within me. Like a hole had swallowed up half of my insides, and left just a hollow emptiness behind.

“You know what the funny thing is about dying?”

I definitely did not want to answer that question. Or go down this path at all, to be honest.

“What?”

“As soon as you find out you’re going to die, you suddenly start living for the first time. I had never been on a roller coaster before I heard my deathly news, Clarke. I was always too scared. But, it’s like all my fear disappeared at the doctor’s office.”

Lexa let out a sharp, short laugh. “I went horse-back riding, I ran as fast as I could on that horse. It was the most exhilarating feeling. I went drag-racing. I learned how to slow-dance. I got drunk off champagne, and started smoking cigarettes to piss off my sister. I went to a shooting range, and I went race-car driving. Like, legit race-car driving. Indy 500 shit.” Lexa nodded towards the tree.

“I climbed a tree.” She smiled at me. “Kissed the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

 I’d heard enough. I swam forward and gave her a watery kiss, I found my feet below me; we weren’t that deep anyway. I enjoyed the feeling of her bare skin against my fingertips. I ran my hand up her arm, her shoulder, her collarbone, until it rested at the nape of her neck. I pulled her closer, tasting lake water on her lips.

It was sadder than our previous kiss, weightier, and more emotional. I broke away, hoping the water hid the single traitorous tear making its way down my cheek.

“From the moment I heard I was dying, until this moment right now, I have never wished that I could live. It seemed pointless. But, now, god now I wish. I wish I could live, if only to kiss you again tomorrow.”

I smothered Lexa’s words with another kiss, and another, and another.

“No more talk about dying, or death, or wishing to live. Today, today we’re just two girls on an adventure, ok?”

Lexa nodded at me, tucking stray wet hair behind my ear, leaning close and kissing my nose.

“Just today. It's all I can promise.”

“Then I’ll take what I can get.”

And I meant it, when I said that. Or I thought I did. Because deep down, I knew I was lying to myself, and to Lexa. Because I wanted everything. I wanted tomorrow, and the day after that, and all the days after. Today wasn’t enough for me, it never was.

How could it be? How could you watch a sunset, and only be satisfied with seeing it once? How could you watch a thunderstorm, in the height of its frenzy, and not be in awe? How could you see the ocean, and be content to never feel it? Lexa was the sunset, the storm, and the ocean. She was all that to me.

But for the day we were able to fool ourselves into thinking there was a tomorrow. We went and rode a fucking roller coaster. I never told Lexa I was terrified of them too. We ate cotton candy, and ice cream, and hot dogs. Lexa made me draw a cartoon caricature of a cartoon caricaturist. We watched the sunset from a pier, hot chocolate in hand.

I never did make it back to school before the end of the day, and Raven and Octavia were livid at me for disappearing like that.

I would like to say that it was worth it. That the sugary kisses, Lexa’s goofy performance of ‘let it go’ in the middle of a packed line for the rollercoaster (she received a standing ovation), and the easy conversation about everything around us (but never the future); could last with me. But truthfully, I’m not sure it was. To experience something like that, knowing that all you had was one day-it was like the worst and purest form of torture.

I drove us back to school, for no other reason than that was where our adventure had begun. We kissed goodbye. Again, and again, and again. And-eventually-Lexa disappeared into the dark of the night. Refusing to tell me where she was going, or if I would see her again.

I received a text a few days later from an unknown number. It was a picture of the view from the top of the tree Lexa and I had climbed. All it said was “Be great, Clarke Griffin.”

No matter how many times I texted the number, I never received another reply. And for reasons untold, I never told anyone about the day that changed my life. It was far too personal an experience for me to try and explain to someone, until now.

I never knew what happened to Lexa. I never knew if she died shortly after, or long after. I never knew anything more about her. Until now.

Flash-forward several years to future Clarke, that’s me, telling you this story. You see, the day Lexa entered and left my life, it gave me a spark of inspiration that grew into a fire. I was accepted into a prestigious art school I originally didn’t apply to. I sent them a new portfolio I made post-Lexa, Lexa-inspired.

And from there, I strove to do exactly what Lexa had told me to do. Be great. Tonight was the official opening of a new gallery featuring, you guessed it, yours truly.

In the gallery there is, predictably, a piece I’ve worked on for years. The view from Lexa and mine’s tree. The other favorite of mine? A painting of Lexa. It’s wistful, and full of longing, and encompasses everything I feel when I think about the girl who stole my heart in one day. There’s been much debate about who the girl in the painting is among my family and friends, and I’ve kept the secret to myself all these long years.

And it was the night of this gallery opening when I saw the star of this story herself. I saw Lexa. She was standing by the painting of our tree. And somehow, through the crowd of suits and glamorous dresses, my eyes fell on her.

In that instant I was transformed back years into my past. Then she turned around. And everything ceased to exist except her. Her and her green eyes, and her long, curly hair, and her killer cheekbones, and her soft half-smile she was giving me.

And then…well actually, I think this is a story for another day, for a future, future Clarke to tell. Because right now? Right now, standing before me is either a very well-made figure of my imagination, a twin of Lexa’s (she did say she had a sister), or somehow; the very alive version of the girl who stole my heart in one day.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Hey you, remember me? Clarke Griffin? Artist extraordinaire? Last time we met I was walking towards the love of my life. Lexa supposed-to-be-dead-but-somehow-not-not-that-I’m-disappointed-about-that Woods.

In my head, I was walking in slow motion with cheesy romcom music playing loudly. The world had somehow disappeared, and all I could see was Lexa, Lexa, Lexa. In reality, I probably should have been paying attention to where I was walking.

I blame the waiter, I mean, hello couldn’t he see I was having a life-altering moment, possibly a life-crisis?

Somehow, an entire tray of champagne ended up all over me, without a lick on the waiter. How unfair. In the confusion of walking straight into a tray of champagne, I took my eyes off the object of my focus. When I glanced back up, Lexa was gone.

Theory for me having a stress-induced vision: one point.

The waiter immediately reached towards me, grabbing for a towel at his waist. “I’m so sorry, Miss Griffin! I should have watched where I was going.”

He handed me the towel. Despite it being entirely my fault, I accepted the poor boy’s apology with the most elegant of nods. As elegant as it could be considering I was covered in champagne.

“Clarke! Are you ok?” Finn, my boyfriend, strode up to me with a concerned look.

Oh right.

Ok don’t judge me, I can feel you judging. Just because Lexa had been the love of my life doesn’t mean I couldn’t look for love somewhere else. After all, as far as I knew, Lexa was dead.

I couldn’t wait a lifetime for someone who would never come back. And Finn was a good guy. Kind, and smart, and supportive. We’d been together two years, and overall it had been nice.

Ok yeah, I know love shouldn’t be nice, but as far as I knew, I’d already had my allotted time of passionate, crazy, undefinable, illogical love.

So, yeah, Finn. Finn the boyfriend I had completely forgotten about in my eagerness to go kiss another woman senseless. Oops.

“I’m ok, Finn, I just wasn’t paying attention.”

He frowned at me, putting his hand at the small of my back to guide me towards the back room. “You look frazzled, are you sure you’re ok?”

“Dumping champagne all over your expensive dress does a number on you, I guess.” I shrugged, my eyes darting around the entire room trying to find Lexa.

She was nowhere to be found.

Theory for stress-induced vision: point two.

Raven and Octavia hurried up next to me. Through the years we had stayed friends, despite going to different universities and being busy with successful careers.

Raven had successfully lived up to her legacy as an Amelia Earhart reborn, becoming a NASA engineer. Octavia? Octavia worked for the motherfucking FBI. Damn my friends were cool. Maybe I should be telling their story instead…

“Oh my god, Clarke are you ok? You looked like zombie there for a second. And then you walked into that tray of champagne like you didn’t even see it right in front of your nose.” Raven put the back of her hand on me in concern.

“You’re not actually a zombie, are you? Any strange cravings for human brains?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine Raven.”

I turned to Finn who still had his hand on me. “I have a spare dress in the back, just let me get cleaned up and changed. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Finn still looked concerned, but nodded at me.

Octavia gave me a pat on the shoulder, sending me a look that said _this isn’t over._

Damnit. Inquisitions by those two were the worst. Along with mushrooms and olives. Gross.

How the hell was I supposed to tell them I thought I saw the girl who radically changed my life and set me on my current life path, and oh yeah, was supposed to be dead. The answer, I wouldn’t. That’s what I always did when I wanted to avoid certain subjects. Hence my avoidance of the topic regarding my accidental setting on fire of one of my old college crushes.

I sighed and hurried into the back to change. Thank goodness for my chronic indecisiveness in life, I had four different dresses in the back because I couldn’t decide which one to wear. I had finally chosen one an hour before the gala. Then changed ten minutes later.

I quickly wiped myself down with napkins as best as I could, then changed into my runner-up dress of the night.

With a sigh, I zipped myself up and began making my way back towards the gala.

Suddenly, I stopped. I needed some air.

I had just hallucinated Lexa Woods. The object of my inspiration. The muse to my art. This night had not gone like I had planned. I blamed it on the excessive amount of pigs-in-a-blanket I ate last night. Stress eating-never a good idea.

I made my way outside from the back door, leaning back against the wall of the gallery. The back door let out into a grassy area that overlooked a nearby park. Not a bad view, actually. I smiled at a mother and daughter walking a dog. The dog was practically dragging the little girl into some nearby bushes. My money was that it had discovered a squirrel.  

“I was right.”

For the second time that night my heart stopped. I turned towards the voice.

It was huskier than I remembered it, still musical, but like an instrument that had been played many times and now had a distinct well-worn sound to it.

I blinked. Sure enough, there stood Lexa Woods, just a few feet away. She was dressed in an elegant black dress, framing her figure beautifully, with a leg slit that that I tried my best to avoid staring at.

I breathed out, dazzled by the smile she was giving me. Her green eyes sparkled, the playful mirth I remembered was still there. She looked the same. As if the years hadn’t even affected her.

“You’re alive.” So yeah, I hadn’t exactly gotten smoother over the years.

Lexa chuckled, coming to stand next to me. It did little for my mind. Her perfume invaded my senses, and I felt like I was drowning.

Her hair was still long and curly, and I wanted to run my hands through it, apparently nothing had changed.

“I don’t understand.” I lifted my hand, but restrained myself from actually touching her. If she was a vision, I don’t think I wanted to break it quite yet.

Lexa made the decision for me. She reached up and gently touched my hand, guiding them so they were lying palm-to-palm.

I took a sharp intake of breath. What was happening?

Lexa smiled gently at me, her eyes searched mine. I found myself drowning in the green, unsure what emotions she was holding in them. I wished for a lifetime to find out. Screw waiting for a falling star. I made my wish now, calling on my guardian angel or fairy godmother to hear me. Before I could determine what I was seeing within the depths of Lexa’s eyes, she stepped forward.

For half-a-second I thought she was going to kiss me, and truthfully, I probably would have kissed her back.

But she didn’t. Instead she wrapped me up in a tight hug. She buried her head into my shoulder, and I breathed in deeply. Her perfume intoxicated me. The feeling of her pressed against me set me ablaze. The deep intake of a breath she took floored me.

We stood like that for several minutes, wrapped up in our own little world.

Eventually Lexa pulled back, but kept her arms wrapped around me. She kissed my forehead gently, then gave me a warm half-smile.

“I told you. I told you that you would be extraordinary. That you would do great things.” She tucked stray hair behind my ear.

“You came back from the grave just to tell me you told me so? Oh my god that’s so like you Lexa.”

Lexa let out a booming laugh, and I joined in, gazing up at her with star-struck eyes. I was a teenager again. I was back at the lake, watching in fascination the object of my adoration.

“My sister always did say I was far too extra.”

“Your sister isn’t a twin, is she?”

Just checking on that twin-sister theory.

Lex gave me a quizzical look. “Umm, no, she’s three years older than me. Also I’m adopted.”

I nodded, she never had told me that.  I filed it away in my Lexa file. It had trees with dark green leaves and a deer on it.

“I don’t want to seem ungrateful or anything, because I am very grateful you’re alive, but last time I saw you, you told me you were dying. It was quite dramatic and sad. And now, here you are. Very much alive.”

I widened my eyes. “You are actually alive, right? You’re not a vampire, are you? Oh my god I knew Carmilla was based on actual events!”

Lexa laughed and shook her head in amusement. I was not amused. Supernatural Lexa coming around to say hi, cool as that was, was not something I wanted on my list of theories.

“No, Clarke. I’m very much alive. And doing well, actually. I’m getting my PhD and teaching at Polis University.”

“Shut the front door!” I slapped Lexa’s shoulder. “That’s fantastic! Especially considering you seemed so distrusting of the academic institution once.”

“Not distrusting. I just disliked being cooped up at the time, school seemed so stifling. But now I get to be bossy at students, it’s great.”

I laughed, “You always did enjoy being bossy.”

I grew serious as I rested my hands at Lexa’s neck. “So you survived. You survived and you never told me?”

Lexa bit her bottom lip, giving me a serious look to match mine. “You know what’s strange, Clarke? Every year people are told they have terminal cancer, and are given weeks or months to live. And every year, some of those people survive.”

Lexa’s eyes grew soft, her hand stroked my cheek so gently I barely felt it.

“The day I met you, I went home and I googled ‘terminal cancer patients surviving.’” In one afternoon, you suddenly gave me this incredible desire to survive.”

Her voice grew soft, gentler. “Clarke Griffin, I think you saved my life that day.” She gave me the most awestruck, loving, adoring gaze I had ever seen levelled at someone before.

I shook my head, lost for words. It was not every day you had your fantastical childhood love come up to you saying you saved their life. And not just in the metaphorical, I-wasn’t-living-until-I-met-you-way. In the I-was-supposed-to-literally-die-but-didn’t-thanks-to-you way.

“I never believed in miracles, before. Being told you’re going to die at eighteen-years-old, it makes you a little bit of a skeptic. But now, now I think maybe we’re allowed one moment, just one, and we can take that moment and make the most of it. You were my moment, you were my miracle”

If someone could ever be incapable of speaking because of emotion, it would be me in that moment. I felt the betrayal of tears springing to my eyes, and I blinked them away rapidly.

“But why did it take you so long to find me? It’s been years, Lexa.”

A gentle finger came and wiped away a stray tear.

“Cancer is an ugly disease, Clarke. I couldn’t ask you to go through that with me. It took me two years before I was officially cancer free and out of remission. I immediately went and got my bachelor’s, taking summer classes to catch up. I tried looking for you after those two years, but I didn’t have anything to go by except your name and where you went to high school. I had no idea where you went to college, and your phone number changed. And then, one day, I was walking to classes and I saw an advert for your gallery opening. And I had to come. I had to see you again. I couldn’t help myself.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Lexa gave me the widest smile I had ever seen, eyes lighting up with joy. “Yeah?”

“Of course.” I reached up to where Lexa was still holding my face in her hands. I grabbed them and entwined our fingers.

I just needed to check. Yep, they still fit together perfectly.

“The day I met you, my life changed too. All this-“I waved our connected hands around in a pointless gesture, “-was possible because of the inspiration you gave me that day.”

“The painting of the view from our tree?”

“Our tree, yes. And you, too.”

Lexa’s eyebrows shot up. “You painted me?”

“Countless times.”

“But how? You didn’t even have a photograph of me.”

“As if I could forget your face.”

Tears sprung to Lexa’s eyes. She brought our hands up to her lips and kissed them.

Silence fell, in that moment. And the weight of unsaid words and wishes filled the air.

You know that moment right before it rains? The soft kind of rain, the kind that mists your face and washes away tear stains? This was that moment.

And then the moment changed. Because despite the almost unbelievable turn my story has taken, real life still intervenes. Lexa was a worthy distractor, a competitor of the finest caliber for my attention. But even she could not prevent reality crashing back into my mind.

With a shaky breath I took a step back. I searched for Lexa’s eyes, unsure what I would find there. She gave me this heartbreaking look of understanding, and I knew that she knew.

Years were not casual numbers. And how was I supposed to communicate in such a short amount of time all I had stored up to say?

How did I tell her I loved her, without knowing her? How do I spell regret and longing together? How do I tell her that _she_ was my motivation every day? That all this, I did for her?

And how do I tell her I can’t just run away with her on another adventure, no matter how much I wished she would ask me right there?

“Come on an adventure with me, Clarke Griffin?”

I nodded, a huge smile breaking over my face. “Ok.”

Wait, Stop. Rewind. Playback.

Did you not just hear that whole long speech I gave? Come on Clarke, get it together girl!

Except mature, graduated-from-college Clarke Griffin was no longer in control. High school star-struck Clarke Griffin had taken over. I’m the captain now.

Lexa grabbed my hand with a devilish grin. She tugged me around the building and we strode towards a black motorbike parked near the end of a parking lot.

We giggled like school children as we practically ran hand-in-hand. All reason thrown out the window.

We hopped onto her black motorbike, Lexa insisted I wear her black helmet, and we roared off into the night.

Lexa drove us to a thrift store. Really romantic, I know.

I laughed as we hopped off the bike, glancing up at the thrift shop sign.

“I can see you’re going all-out in our adventure.”

Lexa laughed lightly. “Come on, we need warmer clothes.”

I gave her a puzzled look. “It’s closed Lexa.”

She winked. “Nothing’s ever closed.”

She strode up to the front door, it was secured by one of those old-timey lock and chain contraptions. Wait, what kind of sketchy neighborhood was this?

I glanced around and before I could protest, Lexa had picked the lock and was removing the chain.

“Come on.”

She opened the door and slipped through, holding it for me as I followed.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Yeah, I’ll leave cash at the counter, it’s no problem. I’ve done it before.”

“You must be one poor PhD student.”

“Wait, you think they actually pay us for our work?”

We walked over to the back of the store. Lexa grabbed some flannel from a shelf and a leather jacket. I chuckled.

Lexa gave me a look, and I raised my hands in innocence. She smirked, grabbing a bright pink, feathery hat from a nearby shelf, plopping it on her head.

“How do I look?”

“Divine.”

She grabbed a matching blue one, tossing it to me. I laughed and fitted it on my own head.

“Smashing.” Lexa winked at me. She tossed me a bright neon-green jacket. “I think this would compliment it quite well.”

I put it on, turning around in slow motion to Lexa’s appreciative whistle.

“Damn girl, sexy stuff right there.”

“Thank you, thank you. I like to think us artists have a natural eye for fashion.”

“Clearly.”

We tried on far too many strange combinations if clothing. In the end, we bought flannels and jackets. Lexa insisted on wearing matching beanies.

True to her word, Lexa left an appropriate amount of cash on the counter, and locked up behind us. It was swoon-worthy, really, how even in being a delinquent Lexa was polite.

Our next stop was the deli store, because in my anxiety over the gallery opening, I had forgotten to eat all day. Lexa bought me the biggest sandwich on the board and we walked over to a nearby bench at the edge of a park.

We sat under the bench and ate our sandwiches with relish. No, really, I had relish on it.

“When the sandwich was invented, how do you think it happened? Like, did someone just accidentally place some food on a piece of bread and then suddenly have an epiphany? Or was it like super designed? Secret food inventors got together and had brain-storming sessions on what the next revolution in cuisine would be?”   

Lexa shrugged. “It was probably just a hungry kid who didn’t even know bread and meat and cheese weren’t supposed to go together.”

“Ok, but what about jell-o? Like, how did someone even realize how gelatin could be made? Actually, I’m not sure I want to know the answer to that question.”

Lexa laughed through a mouthful of food. I felt a proud sensation go through me at the realization that I could make Lexa laugh. And smile. And giggle. Me, lonely-old Clarke Griffin.

Under the light of the single lamppost Lexa looked even more beautiful, bundled up in her flannel and leather jacket, matching green beanie on her head. I reached over and placed my hand on her cheek. What was I doing? What was I going to do?

When I was with Lexa, it was like nothing else existed or mattered. I could be satisfied with sitting her with her for hours, just talking or sitting in companionable silence. Just her presence was enough for me. But outside of her was this whole other world, and I couldn’t just shut it out.

Lexa leaned her head into my hand. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She didn’t turn towards me, but spoke into the darkness of the night with closed eyes.

“I watched you at the gallery, Clarke. I saw you there with someone.”

I sighed, dropping my hand and facing into the darkness to mimic Lexa. Lexa had been affectionate and loving the whole night, but also somewhat restrained, and I knew that she knew.

“His name is Finn. We’ve been dating for two years, we met my senior year of college. He’s a good person, Lexa.”

Lexa nodded. “As he should be. You deserve the best.”

I turned back towards Lexa, and she met my gaze.

Her eyes were sad, but understanding. She stood up and offered me a hand. “Let’s get you home, eh?”

I gave her a small smile, nodding in agreement. Our ride back home was silent, and heavy with those unsaid words and thoughts.

I was slowly coming back to the moment, and I didn’t like it. How was I supposed to let Lexa go again? I had just gotten her back, from pretty much the grave itself.

We stopped outside my apartment door, it had gotten late, and no doubt my friends and family were frantic wondering what had happened to me. I would have a shitstorm to deal with in a little bit. But right now? Right now standing before me was Lexa Woods. The girl who clearly still had this magnetic pull on me.

“I don’t want to say goodbye, Lexa. It was hard enough the first time. And this time, this time we can have a tomorrow.”

My eyes searched hers, begging her to understand, to agree with me. She gave me a small, wistful smile.

“I would like that.”

I nodded, not sure what else to tell her. What else I could promise.

“Maybe you should take some time to think, clear your head, and we can talk again then, ok?” Lexa sensed my train of thought before I even arrived there.

I nodded, “Yeah, yeah I think that’d be good. It’s not every day people come rising back from the dead.”

Lexa chuckled. “I might be concerned if that happened on a regular basis.”

She stepped forward and gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Goodnight Clarke Griffin.” She hesitated briefly. “I’m so proud of you.”

I felt my throat constrict from emotion. I pulled Lexa in for a crushing hug, pressing her impossibly close and burying my face into her neck. I breathed her in, memorizing her scent and the feel of her body. Finally, after several minutes, I pulled away; wiping away my tears.

“Good night Lexa.”

She nodded at me, walking backwards before she couldn’t see me anymore. I watched her go, before hurrying upstairs to my apartment.

I immediately poured myself a drink and stepped outside onto my patio. Fuck. What a night.

In one day Lexa had changed my entire outlook on life. It shouldn’t have been that easy. But for the first time on that day I met Lexa, I went home to paint and truly think about why I was painting. I wanted to have the hands of God, to paint worlds like Lexa had suggested I could.

I was being hailed as an artistic genius, a new Van Gogh or Munch. And yet somehow during this time I think I had forgotten what Lexa had been truly trying to tell me that day.

Finding inspiration required breaking out of your routine. It required seeing life differently, finding the beauty in the smallest of moments. Whether that was your best friend’s smile, or the beaten up yellow bug my neighbor always drove.

Tonight was the first night in a long time I’d felt like throwing out responsibility and just having an adventure for the sake of having an adventure. I’d felt alive, and inspired. And I knew I’d have to return to being a responsible adult, and deal with the consequences of my actions. But right now? Right now I wanted to sit and remember the feel of Lexa’s hands in mine, and the feel of her lips against my forehead. The distant memory of those lips on mine, and her fingers setting me ablaze wherever they touched me.

I finished my drink with one last swig. The whiskey burned my throat, bringing clarity to my mind. I knew, I had to figure out what I wanted. The entire night had upended my plans, the safe life I had built for myself.

Did I truly love Finn? I didn’t know. Was I satisfied with what I was painting? I had no idea. Lexa had once again successfully infiltrated and upset my life.

Fuck, for someone suffering from chronic indecisiveness this was not a great moment for me. Decisions had to be made.

The process of those decisions would actually be rather boring to talk about, as truthfully I spent hours on that balcony that night. I examined my life, the past years, what I wanted (spoiler, I wanted Lexa. God, I wanted Lexa like I wanted ice cream for dinner every night. So a lot).

Eventually, my contemplations and ruminations were interrupted by very irate best friends, and a distraught boyfriend. Apologies were made, and poor excuses said. I begged for, and was granted, the rest of the night. I could deal with them tomorrow.

For now? For now, I needed a good night’s sleep and hopefully dreams filled with the person who had set my heart beating at a breakneck pace. The rest could wait till morning. Goodnight, past Clarke.

And now a note from future Clarke. I was sure Lexa had been right, in her cheesy John Green ripoff. Miracles happen all the time. For me, seeing Lexa alive was all the proof I needed of that. But truthfully, miracles happen very rarely. Miracles don’t just happen in the way you think they do. But that’s a story for another time, I suppose.


	3. Chapter 3

If you’ve made it this far you know the unfortunate array of events that have led me to wake up on a fine Saturday morning, the morning after that spectacularly eventful gallery opening, with a massive stress-induced headache.

I checked the time when I woke up.

“Fucking hell. 6:00 AM?”

I groaned and fell back against my pillows. Well, the good news was I could put off talking to my boyfriend and friends for a few more hours. The bad news? I was awake.

There was only one thing I could rely on to help sort me through my raging emotions and thoughts right now. Laser shooting.

My local coffee barista had once suggested I find an outlet to help me work through my issues and chronic indecisiveness.

I’m not sure laser shooting was what he was thinking, considering he knew I was an artist. After all my art was hanging on the wall of the coffee shop he worked at. Oh well, he wasn’t a great therapist substitute anyway.

I know what you’re thinking, “But Clarke, what possible laser shooting galleries would be open at 6 AM?”

The answer? Adventure World. Open 24 hours a day. Believe me, I thought the same thing when I first stumbled across it. What a nightmare! What play zone could possibly feel the need to be open 24/7?

But, when you’re drunk at 3:00 AM and are trying to quote “find an outlet,” it was pretty much the greatest plan Clarke Griffin had ever come up with.

And drunk laser shooting at 3:00 in the morning? Super cathartic, believe-it-or-not. So since I didn’t want to actually face reality today, I grabbed a sweatshirt and threw on some jeans.

Time to kick some ass. Even if it was just cardboard cutout ass, but still.

I stopped for some coffee to help ease my stress-headache, pulled into the nearly-empty parking lot of Adventure World, and strolled into the fun zone like I owned the place.

“Hey Clarke, you’re here a little late, or a little early depending on your definition.”

Steve, the night receptionist, greeted me as I walked up to the desk. Ok, yeah there had been a lot of late-night drunk and sometimes not drunk-laser shooting sessions.

“Hey Steve, how’s Danny?”

Danny was Steve’s six-year-old daughter, cute-as-a-button that one, and scary good at laser tag. I won’t say I lost to her once. So yeah. Moving on.

“She’s doing well. Rough night?”

“Eh, rough morning more like it.”

“Already?”

“Well the rough night kind of merged into a rough morning I guess.”

“Fair enough. Two rounds?”

“Yeah that sounds good for now.”

I checked in (ok yes I had a yearly subscription, don’t judge me), gathered my gear, and headed into the laser shooting zone.

Steve usually helped guests run through the simulations this late at night (or early in the morning I guess); but I had been here so many times he trusted me to set up the protocols myself.

I typed them in, setting up the time limits.

There was something soothing about shooting fake targets, seeing your points racked up, hearing the ding of a successful shot.

My mind was completely focused on my task, shutting down the torrent of thoughts running through my head and streamlining them into a coherent point-by-point readable outline.

_Ding._

Fact one: I was in a two-year-relationship with Finn Collins.

_Ding._

Fact two: Lexa had risen from the grave, sending me into a spiral of emotions and feelings I thought I had left behind in high school.

_Ding._

Fact three: I had never felt anything even close to this with Finn.

I moved my fake muzzle from target to target, proceeding slowly through the dark maze. Neon signs lit the way, providing just enough light to guide you.

Eventually I made it to the end of the maze, letting out a blaze of final lasers towards the final target, racking up a final few hundreds points.

A loud _clang_ announced the end of the round, and the maze lit up. Squinting from the bright light, I exited the maze, moving to the door across the room to start the simulation again.

I did even better the second time, muscle memory giving me almost perfect accuracy at this point. After a couple more rounds I made my way back to Steve’s desk. I glanced at the time.

“You must be heading out soon?”

Steve glanced up at me and gave me a smile. “Just about to walk out the door. Walk with me?”

I helped put away my gear, and then followed him out the main entrance, nodding to his replacement. Louis, I think? I didn’t come during the day very often.

“So what’s on your mind today, Clarke?”

My regular coffee barista hadn’t been in today, so I suppose Steve would make a worthy substitute as far as fake therapists went.

“My new gallery opened last night. And it was going pretty well, and then I received some rather stunning news that, potentially, could change a lot of things in my life. And I don’t really know what to do with this news.”

“Is it good news?”

“Yes, but it’s also complicated.”

Steve nodded in understanding. “I see. Well, in my experience, talking through this kind of news with the person you trust the most seems like the safest thing to do. And I know we’re close, Clarke, but perhaps you should call Finn.”

I nodded at Steve’s wise words and slight sarcasm. He was right, I knew. But talking with Finn, I was afraid of what I would say. What he would say.

Logically though, I knew I couldn’t avoid it forever.

“Thanks Steve, I think I will.”

He gave me a grave nod, then unlocked his car, giving me one last wave. “Goodbye Clarke.”

“Bye Steve.”

I sighed, getting into my own car and pulling out my phone. I stared at it for a few minutes before clicking through the contacts and finding Finn’s name.

When I was younger, I was so sure I knew what love was. Watching my parents interact, I was never in doubt that they loved each other. I was positive finding love like that was easy. Then I had my heart broken in middle school, and for the first time I questioned everything I knew about love. (Ok yes I’m aware finding love in middle school is irrational, don’t judge).

It had led me to the most important conversation I ever had with my mom. I had always been closer to my dad, but for some reason when I had my heart broken, I needed my mom to tell me why love hadn’t been as easy as I thought it was.

Turns out, love is a lot harder to find than you think. And I became scared I would never find it. Then I met Lexa, and that was it.

It was like falling off a cliff. It was like getting on a plane to some unknown destination. It was like leaving everything you knew behind. It was like coming home. And it was nothing like I thought. It was contradictory and scary and big.

Then I lost her. The day I found her I lost her. I didn’t date for a long time after that. Everyone else seemed subpar, like I would be compromising with anyone else but her.

And that was weird, because people fall in love multiple times over their lifetimes, right? But after spending the day with the sun, would you settle for the moon?

Regardless, I eventually starting dating again. It was mainly flings here and there. And then I met Finn. And he was persistent, but kind, and not at all like what I thought I wanted. But somehow, and I couldn’t tell you how, we became a thing. And that thing became a year. Then two.

And here we were.

And I knew. I knew I wasn’t in love with Finn. I loved him, he was a good man, but I wasn’t in love with him. We worked well together, we knew each other. But didn’t we deserve more than that? Didn’t he deserve someone who truly loved him?

I clicked on his number. The phone rang a couple times before he answered. “Clarke? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah Finn, everything’s fine. Do you want to come over to my place for lunch? I think we have a couple things to talk about.”

He hesitated, and I knew he must be frantically trying to figure out what I might be referring to, other than the debacle that was last night. “Yeah, sure, that’d be great. Want me to pick anything up?”

“No, that’s ok. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Yeah ok, I love you.”

“I love you too.” I replied automatically, my stomach turning at the realization that I no longer meant it like I thought I had.

With a sigh I hung up. I put my car in gear and began driving home.

When I arrived back home, I was greeted by both a lovely sight, and a new complication.

Lexa was sitting on the stairs of my apartment building, fiddling with the motorbike helmet in her hands.

My heart leapt at the sight of her. Despite our reassurances last night, a part of me had been terrified I would never actually see her again. That I had dreamed up or imagined last night. Or that somehow she wouldn’t want to see me again.

My heart began beating frantically. It was unfair what the simple sight of her could do to me. But granted, this was only the third time I had seen her.

Three times? Fuck. Had it been so few? Was it supposed to feel this right? Was it supposed to feel like seeing her made everything ok? Was I supposed to fall a little harder at just the sight of her?

I hurried up to where she was sitting, an unconscious smile making its way to my face.

Lexa jumped up at the sight of me, relief flooding her face. “Clarke!” She gave me a quick hug, and my body flushed warm against my consent.

It was like electricity, standing next to her. I had never felt this way about anyone else. I had almost forgotten what it felt like. And if I wasn’t sure before, I was sure now.

This was what I had been waiting for. This is what I had seen between my parents. And breaking up with Finn, while on the surface might seem like it had everything to do with Lexa, it didn’t. It was about how Lexa made me feel.

Being with Lexa again reminded me that I was an artist, and as an artist you have to _feel._ Those feelings and emotions I had buried were coming back in full force, and I knew I couldn’t just give on them. I couldn’t rebury them. Lexa made me feel so, so, _so_ alive.

Ok, yeah maybe it was a little bit about Lexa.

“Lexa what are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you, because I am.” Lexa smiled at me, nervously playing with her helmet.

She reached down and grabbed a coffee cup sitting on the stairs, “I brought you coffee. And donuts” She motioned to a bag also sitting on the stairs. “I wasn’t sure how you took your coffee so I grabbed some creamer and sugar packets for you.”

I smiled at her, taken away by her kind gesture. “Thank you.”

She rubbed the back of her neck. “Listen, I know I said you needed space and time to think and all that, but I couldn’t sleep last night. I need to say something, and you don’t have to say anything back, just, listen?”

I nodded, my stomach was doing that weird flip-flop thing it liked to do when I got nervous. “Ok.”

“Ok, ummm,” she gave me an entirely adorable, and so very endearing, small smile, “I had a great time last night. And being with you again, god it reminded me how much you make me feel. I meant it then, and I mean it now; you’re the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. You’re kind, and funny, and so talented, and brave, and so beautiful. It’s irrational, and probably foolish of me to say, but I’m in love with you, Clarke Griffin. And I know you can’t say it back, and might even have no reason to say it back, but I needed to tell you. I needed to tell you because I don’t think I could handle having to walk away. I don’t think I could handle never seeing you again. I want to be in your life Clarke, even if I have to stamp down these feelings, and only be friends. I can be your friend. Just, don’t tell me to leave, please?”

My head spun. I couldn’t process everything she had told me, my mind was replaying those words over and over again. _I’m in love with you_. I was floating on cloud nine, I was the happiest person in the world.

Damnit. Of course Lexa would get to say I love you first. That was just unfair.

In my daze, Lexa must have taken my lack of response as a bad sign. Her face fell and she nodded once, short and sharp.

“I should go.”

I suddenly realized in a panic I hadn’t replied to her. I grabbed her arm, preventing her from leaving. I lifted her chin with my other hand so she could look me in the eyes and see the sincerity behind my words.

“I need you too, Lexa. The last thing I want is you to leave. Yeah, I have some stuff to sort out, but I promise, when it is, I’ll call you first thing.”

Lexa’s face broke out into a brilliant smile and it dazzled me. I practically swooned on the spot, a hair’s breath away from kissing her senseless right then and there.

“I should give you my phone number, then.”

“That might be helpful, as long as you reply this time.”

She laughed. “That I can promise I will do.”

She gave me her number, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and walked away with the peppiest pep I had ever seen in someone’s walk. I smiled at the sight. Not at her leaving, that sucked, but at the sight of Lexa seeming so happy.

I made my way back up the stairs, still processing what Lexa had told me. Though I hadn’t been able to truly convey my feelings to her, they were as real as hers.

I knew I owed Finn an explanation, a reason as to why I was suddenly questioning our whole relationship. No, not questioning it. Ending it.

And I knew, from Finn’s perspective of this story, I would be the bad guy. At least, I think I would be. How do you explain to someone you’ve been together with for two years that for years you’ve been in love with a girl you met for one day. And that that very same girl had suddenly walked back into your life out of nowhere. And you were still so very much in love with her.

It was insane. It was implausible. It was so very, very true.

I showered, and dressed, and started preparing some lunch. I waited for Finn to arrive, nervously trying to map out what I would say to him.

I had never done well with anticipation. When I was a kid I had always gotten sick at Christmas because I worked myself into such a tizzy. I literally worked myself into an illness.

And one time in college I had broken three pens in my mouth because I was chewing on them so much in fear of what my test results would be. My mouth tasted like ink for a week after that.

After far too much nervous pacing, Finn knocked on the door. With one last squeeze of my fists I psyched myself up enough to answer the door.

Finn stared at me from the other side, his face was unreadable. We studied each other for a moment, and then his face fell.

Was I that obvious?

He nodded, already clearly resigned to whatever fate he had imagined. “Hello Clarke.”

“Finn, hey.” I stepped aside. “Come in.”

He came inside without a word, moving over to sit down at the couch.

I closed the door and sat beside him, nervously wringing my hands.

“Listen Fi-“

“What happened last night?” Finn interrupted me, giving me this desperate look.

“What do you mean?”

“Something happened last night, something that clearly has you a complete wreck. Something that made you want to break up with me. So what was it?”

I stared at my hands, miserable. What was I supposed to say?

“I deserve an explanation, Clarke.”

He was right, he did. I knew this was going to be hard.

“When I was in high school, I met someone who I fell very much in love with. But it wouldn’t have worked out, and she fell out of my life. I didn’t think I’d ever see her again, so I moved on. But last night, she showed up at the gallery.”

Finn looked stunned. “She?”

That’s right, Finn never had seen me with a woman. And it had never come up, at least, I never felt the need to address it. I hadn’t thought of that.

“Yes, she. I met her my senior year of high school.”

Finn shook his head in disbelief. “You’re breaking up with me so you can be with an old high school fling? You’re not even into women, Clarke.”

I felt a flare of anger.

“Actually, I am, Finn. Just because I never brought it up means you can just dismiss that out of hand. And Lexa wasn’t just some high school fling for me. And this isn’t even about her.”

“Oh really? Well it wasn’t until you saw her last night that you wanted to break up with me.”

“Seeing her made me remember something, Finn. It made me remember what it feels like to be truly in love. And I don’t think I’m truly in love with you, I’m not sure I ever was.”

“No, no that’s not true.”

“It is, Finn. And I’m so sorry I never told you. I don’t think I really realized it until last night.”

Finn grabbed my hands, giving me a wild look. “You and I are good together. We’re meant to be together.”

I pulled my hands away. “I don’t think so, Finn. I think we both deserve something better than what this is. _You_ deserve better, you deserve someone who truly loves you.”

Finn let his head fall into his hands, growing quiet. I sat awkwardly until he raised his head again, unshed tears in his eyes.

“So this is it then?”

I nodded, tears springing to my own eyes. “Yeah, this is it.”

Finn suddenly stood up abruptly. “Ok. Ok then.”

He strode towards the door and I stood up from the couch, my head hurting from the sudden turn. He gave me a blank look, opening the door.

“Bye Clarke.”

“Bye Finn.”

He shut the door, quite firmly, and I sank back onto the couch with a sigh. Well, that hadn’t gone horrendously. It hadn’t gone well either, but still. It could have gone worse.

It was strange, how much my life had changed in twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours ago I had been stressing over the opening of the gallery, completely sure it was going to be a disaster. Well, it certainly hadn’t gone like I had wished. Not that I was complaining.

I waited twenty-seven hours. And to me, it was the longest twenty-seven hours of my life. I applauded myself for my patience and endurance, considering how many times I pulled out and stared at Lexa’s phone number.

She came over a few hours after I called her. I waited impatiently for her knock, nearly dying of nerves. When the knock finally came I almost died of a heart attack.

I pulled opened the door, and it was completely out of my control the wide smile that found itself to my face. Lexa matched my smile, and we stood there like a couple of Cheshire cats. God we were so far gone.

Eventually, I stepped back, giving Lexa room to come inside.

“Hi.” I mentally gave myself a high-five for sounding somewhat coherent.

She stepped across the threshold. “Clarke.”

It was the way she said my name that did it. I did what I had wanted to do since the moment I had laid eyes on her. I grabbed her, slammed her back against the front door, and kissed her hungrily.

She responded immediately. She brought her hands to my waist and pulled me close, unwilling to let any space come between us.

I was burning. I had flown too close to the sun and now I was being consumed. Every nerve ending of mine was tingling.

In an alternative universe, we would have been more restrained. We would have sat down like normal adults and talked through our situation. We would have kissed, and held each other while we talked in soft voices.

But this was not that universe.

I felt no desire or need to slow down. I wanted Lexa, and I knew she wanted me. I guided us back to my bedroom, only disconnecting our lips to shed unnecessary clothing.

We made it there, somehow, and I could already feel myself becoming soaked. I wanted Lexa in every way. Slowly, lovingly, passionately. I wanted to know everything there was to know about her. I wanted to map out her body and know what it was like to love Lexa Woods. To hear her say my name in ecstasy.

Lexa picked me up and I wrapped my legs around her. She peppered kisses all over me, reaching behind to unhook my bra with one hand. She had skills this one.

With an offended toss my bra was lost somewhere among the apartment.

Lexa took a moment to appreciate the view and then she raised her eyes to meet mine. She gave me this half-smile.

“Beautiful.”

God I loved this girl.

With great care Lexa walked us towards my bed, her breath hitching as I kissed down her neck, my boobs brushing against hers.

She laid me down carefully on the bed and stared down at me from above. She paused then, giving me a tender look. “Are you sure this is ok?”

I nodded, using my arms to wrap around her neck and bring her close.

“Yes,” I breathed, lips hovering just above hers. I connected them and pulled her on top of me.

Lexa set me ablaze, every kiss a flame. Her fingers drew worlds on my skin. Her fingers inside me drew me to the edge, again, and again; and I fell off, drowning in the bliss of being worshipped by the woman I loved.

I returned the favor, dazed and affected by the way she said my name when I made her come. It was the most amazing sound I’d ever heard.

Afterwards, we lay next to each other, wrapped in each other’s arms.

My hands traced the tattoo on Lexa’s arm, a tribal pattern that spoke of strength and endurance.

“Were you scared?”

Lexa hummed. “Yes. Terrified.”

I wished I had been there. I wished I had gotten every minute I could with this girl. But she was here now. She was lying before me, hair splayed out, this lazy smile on her face, and eyes that spoke of everything left unsaid.

“What do we do now?” I whispered, fingers still lazily trailing up her arms.

“I don’t know about you darling, but I’m exhausted. Some sleep would be wonderful.”

I chuckled. “And tomorrow?”

Tomorrow. I liked the sound of it.

“Breakfast, hopefully.”

I leaned forward, my hand finding Lexa’s. “And after breakfast?”

“Get dressed, I suppose? Or not. We could just stay in bed all day. Or maybe we could go to the park. Perhaps get drunk and go bowling. The possibilities are endless.”

I entwined our fingers, bringing our hands up to watch how well our fingers fit together.

“And what of responsibility?”

“Responsibility can take a day off, don’t you think?”

“Miss Woods I do believe you’re a terrible influence on me.”

“As long as that allows me to have you to myself for the day.”

I leaned down, ghosting my lips over Lexa’s. “I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

Lexa grinned wide, leaning forward to capture my lips. If I was dreaming I never wanted to wake up. If I was going crazy, then insanity was the sweetest infliction. If I was dead, then death was welcomed. And if this was real, then reality was the most generous of gift-givers.


	4. Chapter 4

Mornings after are for regret. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve woken up the morning after and been hit that by that high-speed though train of “why the fuck did I do that?”

And so when I woke up the next morning I waited to be hit that particular train. And it might have hit, except I rolled over. And I saw her.

She had her head turned towards me, and a hand tossed protectively around my waist. The morning sun hit her, lighting up her features in an ethereal glow. My breath caught in my throat and for a second I wondered if I was truly dead.

There was no way I should be feeling this much. Lexa’s relaxed face in sleep was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen, and her naked skin was so, so smooth.

If mornings after were for regret, I must still be dreaming, because I felt none. I shifted closer so I could run my fingers across Lexa’s smooth back. There was a tattoo there I had only made a brief note of before. It was beautiful, and clearly told a story. I made a mental note to ask Lexa about it later.

I was incapable of restraint around this woman. I moved my lips to her skin, kissing it slowly and languidly. I moved my lips up her shoulder, towards her neck. My fingers trailed slowly down her back as I did, enjoying the feeling far too much. If last night had been rushed desire, this morning was full of amorous love.

Lexa hummed as I kissed her neck repeatedly, amazed at how soft it was. I smiled into her neck, feeling her hand that was still holding me around the waist squeeze gently.

“Good morning,” I mumbled into her neck.

“Good morning indeed. I don’t think I’ve ever been so pleasantly woken up before.”

I giggled as I pulled back, affectionately rubbing my nose along Lexa’s cheek.

She grinned at me, using her arm to pull me close. Her eyes pierced into mine, and I felt my breath sucked out of me from the sheer intensity of them.

“You’re so beautiful,” she breathed out, eyes still glued to mine.

I was naked, bare before her. In more ways than one. And somehow I felt completely comfortable.

“Have you even seen yourself,” I replied.

The bare flicker of a smile crossed her features, and she leaned in to kiss me slowly. “You. Have. No. Idea. How. Beautiful. You. Are.” She said, in-between kisses.

I melted beneath her touch, but before I could reply a bang echoed throughout my apartment. Both of us immediately turned our heads towards the door, Lexa protectively wrapping me in her arms.

I melted at the chivalrous gesture.

“Clarke Elizabeth Griffin you have some explaining to do!” Octavia’s voice echoed throughout the apartment and I groaned. I had the worst friends. With the worst timing. I was going to kill them. If they didn’t kill me first that is.

Lexa gave me an amused smile. “Should I hide in the closet?”

I rolled my eyes at the dork. “No, I’ll go talk to them and make them leave.”

Lexa hummed. “Do you want me to go out with you?”

I shook my head. I had enough explaining to do without Lexa involved. I was guessing Finn had called and informed them of everything that had happened. They had always really liked Finn, and he them. This was going to be fun. I’m kidding, in case you didn’t catch that.

“No that’s alright, I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure?”

I nodded as I ungracefully fell out of bed, giving Lexa a glare as she snickered behind me. I hurriedly put on a sweatshirt and sweatpants before exiting my room to find Raven and Octavia standing in my living room.

Octavia was holding my shirt. Raven was holding what I guessed was Lexa’s, I couldn’t have told you for sure to be honest.

I stopped short. I gave them a wave. “Hey guys. What’s up?” Score one for Griffin, this was going great so far.

“What the fuck is this? Did you sleep with someone last night?” Raven glared at me from the living room. Ok so maybe not so great.

I suddenly felt a flare of anger. “If I did, so what?”

“Clarke you broke up with Finn barely a day ago, you couldn’t even wait two days?” Octavia shook her head.

I scowled at them. “I don’t see how this is any of your business. What happened between Finn and I was exactly that, between Finn and I.”

“Finn is our friend too.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been your friend much, much longer. So I’m asking you guys to back out of this, ok?”

Raven shook her head. “Finn is devastated, you should see him Clarke. We just don’t understand.”

I sighed. Ok, yeah I could understand how they would be confused. Three days ago Finn and I, on the outside, were extremely happy. There had been no warning, just one night full of strange events and then bam-we were broken up and I was sleeping with some random person. Well, certainly not random to me, but to Raven and Octavia, very random.

I sighed, running my hands through my hair. This wasn’t going to be a short conversation like I hoped.

Somehow, Lexa must have read my brainwaves, because suddenly my bedroom door opened and Lexa stepped out.

My breath caught in my throat looking at her. She had put on her pants from the previous night, but had pulled on one of my other sweatshirts. Seeing her in my clothes should not be doing what it was to me, but all I could think about now was kissing Lexa. Damnit.

Lexa must have been reading my mind, because she just gave me this mischievous look and walked up to me. I could hear two sharp intakes of breaths from both Raven and Octavia. Right, they didn’t know about my bisexuality either. Apparently I was bad at this whole explaining myself thing.

But I didn’t really care, because Lexa was suddenly by my side, and she placed an arm around my waist, giving me a look that was clearly asking if this was ok. I smiled at her, bringing up my hand and pulling her in for a kiss.

She smiled into the kiss, and I had to restrain myself from giggling. When she pulled away, her eyes were still sparkling the same way they were in bed.

“I figured it would be a good idea to give you and your friends a chance to talk, so I’m going to run out and take care of a few things.” She glanced over to where Raven and Octavia were standing, before turning back to me. “Can I come back tonight? I’ll bring dinner?” She whispered lowly.

I nodded probably too eagerly. Truthfully, I didn’t want her to go, but she was right. I needed to explain myself to Raven and Octavia.

“Yes, I like chinese.”

Lexa laughed. “Me too. Glad that’s settled.” With one last kiss, and a brief nod to the pair still standing in shock, she exited my apartment.

Sighing, I broke my probably-dopey looking gaze at the door and plopped down on my coach. Raven and Octavia gave me identical-looking shocked faces.

“What the fuck Clarke?”

I frowned at them. “What?”

Raven and Octavia plopped down in seats across from me. “A woman? Since when are you into women?”

I shrugged. “Senior year of high school, I guess.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us?” Octavia gave me a look of disbelief.

“It just never came up, I guess.”

“Is this why you didn’t date anyone senior year?” Raven asked with a frown.

I fiddled with my thumbs. I guess that was as good a place as any to start. “No.” I nodded towards the door Lexa had just exited from. “She was why I didn’t date anyone senior year.” I frowned as I realized she was actually the reason I realized I wasn’t straight, too. Huh, she really had worked a number on me.

Octavia threw her hands up in the air. “I’m so confused.”

With another sigh, I reluctantly explained the whole story.  

Afterwards, both Raven and Octavia gave me equal expressions of shock. I was starting to legitimately worry I had broken them.

“Let me get this straight. You spent exactly one day with this Lexa person, fell in love with her, and have been secretly pining over her for years since? And then she somehow just magically shows up the night of your big gallery opening, with a story about how she miraculously survived terminal cancer,” Raven quirked an eyebrow at me, and I nodded sheepishly in return.

“I guess that’s a pretty good summary.”

“Clarke, this sounds pretty unbelievable to me. What if she’s like, playing you or something?” Octavia gave me a worried look.

I shook my head fiercely. If there was one thing I was certain about, it was how Lexa and I felt about each other.

“No, she’s not. I know she’s not.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I just am, ok? I know it’s unbelievable, and it sounds like I’m crazy, but it’s true.”

Raven and Octavia both leaned back, frowning at me. I almost laughed at how synchronized they were.

“Can we meet her, at least, get to know her?”

I nodded, I guess there was no harm in introducing them to Lexa. I knew they still weren’t happy with me, that much was obvious from their body language. But if they got to know Lexa, they might eventually come to realize how amazing she is.

“Yeah, absolutely. I’ll talk to her about setting up a good time. She’s amazing, guys. You’re going to love her.”

Octavia smiled gently at her. “I’m sure she is.”

We chatted for a little longer, but eventually both the girls left, leaving me alone in the apartment. I would be lying if I said I didn’t wish Lexa had stayed, but I know she was just trying to give me a little space.

Being up already, I decided to make some breakfast and get ready for the day. This part of the day was usually my favorite, I loved sitting down and eating breakfast, planning out my day as I buttered my toast and drank my coffee-two sugars and a little bit of milk.

However, I couldn’t help but think how much better this part of my day would be with a certain brunette by my side. If I was lucky, I hoped to recreate this exact scene, with her in the picture.

In fact, I was pretty much giddy at the thought of it. Giddy, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt giddy about anything.

I remember years ago when I was just four or five years old my family and I took a trip out East. My parents told me I was the picture perfect joyful little girl. While my cousins were bickering with their parents, my parents sat back and watched as I ran through the park chasing pigeons. The funny thing is, as often as my parents tell that story, I still only remember bits and pieces from that trip.

I remember the cobblestone paths in Boston. I remember the ducks. I remember a big ship. And I remember an overwhelming sense of giddiness and joy.

Memory is subjective. People and places become warped, and oftentimes you only remember the bits and the pieces. But the _feeling_ of the memory rarely changes. I can’t remember certain details with some of my best memories, but all I have to do is close my eyes and I remember the feeling.

There’s this place in my head, I don’t really know how to describe it. But when I close my eyes, I can picture a field, up in the mountains somewhere. It’s this little field between two treelines but it’s one of many on this mountain range. There’s mountains ahead of me, giant ones that run for miles. And there’s green grass at my feet, with little purple flowers dotted around. Any time I picture this place, I am immediately washed over by this overwhelming sense of peace and tranquility.

I suppose you could call it my happy place. Except it’s so much deeper than that, it’s almost spiritual. And perhaps it’s a distorted memory of a place I once visited. All I know is the feeling of the place, I have not been able to recreate that feeling anywhere. That is the power of memory.

For years when I thought back to my memory of Lexa, most of the details were there. The taste of her lips, and the green of her eyes. The way she had this little half-smile, and how delicious cotton candy tasted when you tasted it on her lips. But even more crisp than the details was how she made me feel.

I remember closing my eyes when I was at the top of that tree, and it was so dizzying, but I could feel her presence right below. As if she would catch me if I fell.

Maybe she would have. Maybe she did. Maybe she was catching me now.

The day dragged on, though I did everything I could to pass the time. I cleaned my apartment, for the third time in the last 48 hours. I arranged details regarding paintings sold the night of the gallery opening, and subsequent follow-up commission requests. I rearranged my studio, before giving in and starting to paint. I should have known that the moment I broke out the paints I’d get stuck.

And well, that’s exactly what happened. I’ve always been a bit of a dreamer, lost in my own thoughts and my own worlds. The blessing and the curse of the artist I suppose.

I didn’t hear the buzzer, or the door knock. I didn’t hear the door open, or Lexa calling out for me. If I was being robbed, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed until the entire apartment had been emptied. I mean, I did have music playing pretty loud.

Regardless, it wasn’t until arms were being wrapped around my waist that I realized I even had a guest.

I let out a very high-pitched squeak, nearly throwing my paintbrush against the canvas, but deft fingers caught my hand and brush before that happened.

“Careful now, we wouldn’t want a Griffin masterpiece ruined.”

I let out a noise that could have been considered a mix between a laugh and a groan.

“Lexa, you scared the crap out of me.” I turned around to a grinning Lexa. My heart immediately skipped a beat at the sight of her. I wondered how long it would take before it stopped doing that. I hoped never.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t resist. You were so focused on the painting, you didn’t even see me come in.”

I laughed, “I get like that sometimes. The only way to tempt me away is with food.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I come bearing gifts. Meaning I brought Chinese food.”

I grinned at her, stomach already growling at the thought of food. Come to think of it, I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast.

Lexa smiled back at me in return, still holding me in her arms. Truthfully, it shouldn’t feel this right. It shouldn’t feel like this was how it was every night. I would be locked away in my studio, and Lexa would come home from work. She’d be in her nice work clothes, but she wouldn’t even take the time to change before coming up to say hello, wrapping me in her arms and kissing my paint-splattered cheeks.

She’d greet me with that signature smirk, whisk me away to eat because chances are I probably forgot. Then we’d talk about our days, and I would mention how I went out for a walk and was inspired by the sight of three small children holding ice creams cones in front of a barber’s shop. And she would pretend to understand why and then proceed to kiss me because she thinks I’m cute.

It was too soon to want forever, right?

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Lexa drew me closer, the small smile still etched on her face, eyes looking somewhat concerned.

I put my brush aside, and wrapped my arms around her neck. “Just about how right this feels.”

Lexa’s eyes softened, and she leaned down to kiss me gently. I melted into it, already feeling like I had gone too long without it.

We eventually made it down to eat, and we cuddled on the couch, to-go boxes and chopsticks in hand.

“Ok, weirdest moment as a TA?” I stabbed a piece of chicken as I asked the question, and Lexa laughed. She had insisted we use the damn chopsticks despite my insistence that I didn’t know how.

“Ok, ummm the professor in one of my lectures had me give the lecture for the week because the subject was my area of expertise. So I’m standing up there giving my lecture, when one of the students falls asleep. I actually didn’t notice until he let out this huge snore, and the whole class just went quiet. Then we started giggling, even the professor was laughing. So I pull out my dry eraser marker, and give it to his friend sitting next to him. He ended up drawing all over this poor guy’s face. Sometime later, the guy woke up completely startled. He blinked at me, as I was still attempting to give this lecture, and all he says is, ‘wait, are you real? I swear I was just dreaming about you?’ The whole class went crazy, and we had to discontinue class.”

“I can’t believe you let his friend draw all over his face!”

“He was disrupting my class, Clarke. He had to be taught a lesson.”

I laughed and stabbed another piece. I snuggled closer, somehow not warm enough despite the blanket we were under and the plethora of candles Lexa had lit.

“Ok, your turn.”

Lexa looked thoughtful for a minute before glancing back down at me. “Worst college night of drinking.”

I rolled my eyes. Party-girl Griffin back during those early college days definitely had had far too many bad nights of drinking. Way more than I cared to share with Lexa. Though there was this particularly interesting night.

“Well, one night after me and my friends finished a round of midterms, we decided it would be a great idea to cool off some steam by going to a frat party, as you do in college. The problem was, some of the guys in this frat had invented a terrible brew of moonshine. It was like, insanely toxic, I swear. And everyone had to drink some. So, naturally, my friends and I did. We got smashed so quickly, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten that drunk that quickly. And oh my god, the hangover from it was literally the worst. I was hungover for the entire weekend, as in I didn’t leave my bed and I just ordered pizza to eat. The best part though? The morning after the party I woke up handcuffed to a Zamboni at the local university hockey rink. I don’t even remember getting there. My friends were there, one was dressed in a santa suit, the other in a banana one. And somehow we had fourteen fucking watermelons. Also, I was dressed in a hula skirt and a coconut bra. To this day none of my friends have been able to figure out how this happened. It’s been the biggest mystery of our lives, probably always will be.”

Lexa threw her head back and laughed, and I giggled along with her. I was snuggled so close I could feel her sides shaking in laughter. I liked the sound of her laugh, so much so I was already thinking of everything I could do to make her laugh.

“You’re something else, Clarke Griffin.”

“Oh, there’s plenty more where that came from.”

Lexa raised her eyebrow at me, mischievous grin taking over. “Is that so? Well, I can’t wait to discover all these little secrets of yours.”

I giggled, setting my to-go box aside. “It might take some work, Lexa Woods. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

Lexa leaned in closer, lips hovering just above mine. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

That was all it took for me to connect our lips, swept away by my giddiness. Suddenly I wondered why I had taken so long to kiss her that night.

Hours later, we were once again in bed, and I was drawing patterns on Lexa’s back, admiring her tattoo.

“I love your tattoo,” I mumbled, voice low in the dark room.

Lexa hummed, before flipping sideways to look at me. She looked beautiful, as usual, in the soft light of the evening. I wondered absentmindedly if we had remembered to blow out all the candles.

She smiled at me, before entwining her fingers with mine.

“It tells a story.”

“Will you tell me?”

Lexa nodded, before I snuggled close to her. My head rested against her chest and she played with my hair, taking a few minutes to think.

“It’s the story of the life and death of a great woman. Once, there was a land filled with hate and anger. It hadn’t always been like that, but decades of ferment and misplaced lies led to the explosion of war. Men fought men, using the most horrific of weapons. And men killed other men, even those with no weapon. Like sheep led to a slaughter. During this time, there was a woman who was determined to protect those she could from the hate of others. So she joined the war, and left behind her own family. Within this family she had a daughter, a scared girl no more than seventeen. This daughter believed that she could one day help stop the hate too, but before she got the chance, she was stolen away in the night. The entire family was killed, including the daughter.”

“This doesn’t sound like a happy story,’ I interrupted, voice sad.

“The stories of great men and women rarely are, Clarke.”

“So what did the woman do next?”

“Nothing, this is the story about the daughter.”

“But the daughter is dead.”

“There is always life after death, Clarke.”

“I don’t understand.”

Lexa laughed, “Just let me finish the story.”

I rolled my eyes, “Ok, ok. Sorry.”

“Anyway, the daughter died in the night, without even being aware of her own death. When she awoke, she was in the middle of a library, full of books humming with life. At first she thought she was dreaming, but then a man walked in. This man was kind-looking, but his eyes looked so very old and weary. The daughter asked where she was, and the man replied, ‘you are in the library of life. Here is where all the tales of men and women are kept. Where is where I see the way the past has gone, how the present is being made, and where the future is going.’ The daughter was taken aback by the reply, not fully understanding the meaning of the man’s words. So he showed her a book, the book of Napoleon. Except the book was alive, it hummed and the pages blurred in such a way they could be read in a myriad of different ways.”

“Sounds trippy.”

“The daughter was confused. But the old man explained that he was the keeper of human stories. He had been given the sacred duty of recording the history of human existence. Except he had also been given not only the duty of observation, but of manipulation. ‘You see,’ he said. ‘Great men and women are not born, they are made. I, and my disciples, are those makers of men.’ The daughter was sure she was still dreaming, though the man fascinated her. ‘What does this have to do with me?’ she asked. ‘I am offering you a chance to live again, you see. You can help me make great men and women. I have seen your story, and though it ended so shortly, I see your desire to do great things. And so I offer you a chance to do exactly that. Be my helper, and we shall forge the future.’ The daughter didn’t believe the man, and in the end, he had to show her her own story to convince her. There, written at the end of the short book was the story of her death. ‘Work with me, if you wish, Or I will release your soul, and you may move on. It is your choice.’ So the daughter chose to help the man, and she did everything the man said she could. She made great men and women, guided them on a path towards changing the future. She was the best of all the man’s disciples, and he gave her a gift in exchange for her years of service. The gift of life, a chance to rewrite her own history-when she was ready to return to life. The tattoo signifies her original life, her death, her work, and the day when she chooses, finally, to use the gift given to her.”

Lexa’s voice had lulled me to just the brink of sleep. I turned just so and planted a kiss on her bare shoulder. “I rather like our story,” I mumbled sleepily.

I could sense Lexa’s smile, “Me too, Clarke,” she said.

 The last thought I had before drifting off was of my desire to have breakfast with Lexa in the morning. I wanted to see how she took her coffee.


End file.
